The Magnolia Palace

“Above a drop-front secretary desk hung a portrait of a little girl with a strangely guarded expression, as if she didn’t trust whoever was in the room with her.”

Veronica has found the portrait of Martha in Mrs. Frick’s bedroom. From the moment she enters the Frick mansion, Veronica is interested in her surroundings; she hoped to study history at university. In addition, this portrait provides a connection to the 1919 storyline, in which the reader will learn the whole story of Martha.

“Lillian was not a commercial product, neither a Gibson girl nor a Ziegfeld girl. She was the vision of perfect woman, the embodiment of beauty. An angel. ‘Angelica.’ Her mother came up with Lillian’s model name that same session. ‘We’ll call you Angelica.’ Lillian knew Kitty had done so to avoid any detection by her family back in Newport of their rather unorthodox venture, and the moniker stuck.”

As an artists’ model, Lillian is in a different category than Gibson girls, models who represented the current American feminine ideal, and Ziegfeld girls, showgirls for Ziegfield’s Follies. Kitty’s recognition of the double standard that all of these women are subjected to leads her to the idea of a pseudonym for Lillian—a name that will set her apart from other models, protecting Lillian from the shame that accompanies the career. There is some irony in the pseudonym, as “Angelica” (i.e., angelic) connotes moral perfection, while their contemporary society views nude modeling as degenerate. This ironic contradiction indirectly echoes the inconsistency inherent in double standards; society reifies the art but stigmatizes the model who made the art possible.

“Years of modeling had made it possible for Lillian to hover outside herself in a way that regular people didn’t. She knew exactly what position of the shoulders indicated strength, what indicated maternal softness. [...] Lillian looked down, exactly as she’d done for the Titanic memorial, letting a touch of sorrow and unease pass over her features.”

Throughout the novel, Lillian finds the skills that she developed while modeling to be useful in other areas of her life. In this instance, she has used her knowledge of body language to read the police officer who is questioning her. She then uses her acting skills to respond, recognizing that the officer is viewing her with suspicion. Lillian proves resourceful and chameleon-like throughout the novel.

“As she braced herself to stand back up, a flash of white caught her eye. Deep within the forest of organ pipes lay what looked to be a small pile of papers.”

When Veronica has found the scavenger hunt clues left in the organ room by Lillian 45 years ago, the two storylines connect for the first time. In addition, this discovery occurs in the organ room; this element of the setting appears also in the 1919 storyline, emphasizing the connection. The setting repeatedly represents new discoveries, this time for Veronica.

“A beautiful coat, tossed like it was a piece of newspaper. She thought of the laundresses downstairs who would now be tasked with cleaning it, knowing that they’d be reprimanded if the master found it dirty the next time he called for it.”

Mr. Frick has dropped his coat out the car window as a way of getting the last word in his disagreement with Helen. He and Helen overlook his lack of care for his possessions, as well as the burden he places on his servants. Lillian, however, notices this and many other incidents that highlight the insularity of the wealthy Frick family.

“He touched the book on his lap with his hand, and her eye was drawn to a dotted white scar, like tiny teeth marks, that curved along the webbing between the index finger and thumb.”

Lillian runs into Mr. Frick in the art gallery late one night. He acts very differently from what she has seen of him before—he is kind, rather than cruel and bullying. The scar is, to him, a symbol of his guilt and penance over the suffering and death of his daughter, Martha; the scar thus also represents his vulnerability. However, Davis will only reveal this meaning later in the story.

“But it slowly dawned on her what he was saying. A Black man standing beside an open window of a Fifth Avenue museum, the alarm blaring—the situation would not end well.”

As a Black man in the art world, Joshua faces racism on a daily basis. This situation, however, illustrates the real danger of his position, especially in 1966. As a white woman, Veronica doesn’t recognize her privilege, but being with Joshua will force her to confront it. Davis draws parallels not only between Lillian and Veronica but also between Lillian and Joshua to highlight how different sociocultural factors—not solely sexism—create obstacles and ultimately double standards. Like Lillian nearly 50 years earlier, Joshua must navigate others’ prejudices. Also like Lillian’s situation, Joshua’s involves dire consequences. This mirroring action further unifies the novel’s two storylines.

“New York had that same mix of beauty and ugliness, the mansions of Fifth Avenue and the slums of the Lower East Side.”

Lillian is contemplating a Turner painting as she monitors the success of Helen’s dinner party. In the painting, the beauty of the Rhine River in Cologne, Germany, is juxtaposed with the ugly details in the foreground. Lillian is aware, perhaps more than anyone else at the party, that New York likewise has both beauty and ugliness, as she considers the dilapidated neighborhoods contrasted with the luxurious Frick mansion.

“‘This is my family’s home,’ he continued, ‘where I grew up, and where my parents lived until they passed away earlier this year, from the Spanish flu.’”

Even though the novel doesn’t deal directly with the 1918 flu pandemic, Davis draws attention to it with the deaths of characters’ family members. This idea was at the forefront of public consciousness at the time of its publication in 2022, as the world was experiencing another global pandemic, just over 100 years after the events of the narrative. Both Lillian and Richard have lost parents to the 1918 pandemic, and this commonality will also serve as the first bond between the two characters, eventually leading to their ill-fated romantic involvement.

“You remind me of myself, we both know how to pull strings, to get others to do our bidding. You’re a chameleon, which is what I was when I started out, working as a desk clerk, pleasing whoever was in charge, but making sure that I pleased his boss even more. I like the fact that neither of us is afraid to take a creative approach in carving out a path to success.”

Mr. Frick commends Lillian for her matchmaking between Helen and Richard. He is complimenting her by saying she reminds him of himself, but the comparison makes Lillian uneasy. Mr. Frick is successful and wealthy, but his wealth was built through union-busting and other questionable business practices.

“Over two thousand people dead. An utter catastrophe. Mr. Frick’s reputation had been whitewashed in the ensuing years as he solidified his power, and his increasing wealth made him untouchable.”

Richard exposes Mr. Frick’s dark past to Lillian. He recounts the story of the Johnstown flood where, because of Frick and his wealthy club’s negligence, an entire town was swept away. He also sums up what happens to those dark secrets when one becomes powerful enough—Mr. Frick is “untouchable” now, regardless of his crimes.

“She pulled out the object. It was an old-fashioned cameo brooch with an ivory profile of a little girl with delicate features and curls.”

Veronica has found the cameo containing the Magnolia Diamond. The mysteries of who took it, and why it is there, are still unanswered, but Veronica and Joshua have reached the end of their hunt. Veronica has not yet discovered the Magnolia Diamond hidden in the back, and only the reader is aware it is there—Davis uses the dramatic irony to increase tension.

“‘Society matches.’ He sighed. ‘That about sums it up. I provide Helen the respectability of marriage and an escape from the confines of her father’s will, while she gives me access to the Frick family fortune, an easy life ahead of me.’”

Richard and Lillian are speaking frankly about his courtship of Helen. Lillian has just revealed that she was writing both sides of the correspondence between them. Richard’s blunt statement is an honest assessment of upper-class marriage, in which each spouse brings tangible benefits to the table and love is not a factor. His words also reflect the theme of Society’s View of a Woman’s Place.

“For so long she’d served others, standing patiently, fully exposed, for artists. Making sure Kitty was taken care of. Kowtowing to the whims and tantrums of Miss Helen. She’d molded herself into whatever shape was called for, and was good at it. How caught up she’d been, to miss this.”

Richard has asked her to go to Boston with him, where he will attend medical school, and Lillian seriously considers it. Although the elopement would hurt people, she feels the need to do something for herself after a lifetime of serving others. She delays answering his proposal, however, because she knows she will have to tell him the truth about Angelica, and she fears his reaction. She is also torn between Richard and her potential Hollywood career.

“The model for it was a woman named Angelica, whose likeness can be found in statues all over Manhattan, and she was celebrated in her day for her classic beauty. But then she became embroiled in some kind of murderous love triangle and disappeared.”

Joshua tells Veronica the story behind the statue over the Frick mansion’s door. His anecdote recalls The Double Standard and what public perception of the situation was. The anecdote also illustrates how dramatically off base that public perception can be. The reader knows the true story, but the characters do not, creating a pointed dramatic irony.

“Lillian laid a hand on Miss Helen’s shoulder. At that, Miss Helen burst into tears, much in the way that Lillian almost had with Mr. Graham. Neither of them was used to kindness, to gentleness. Which meant when someone reached out, softly and with care, it was enough to bring the walls of defiance and defensiveness crashing down.”

As women who were unconventional for the time, Lillian and Helen are used to people keeping their distance. Lillian has had to be careful because of her career, and Helen has had to distance herself from her father’s bullying and hide her true desire for a career. Although the two women are not exactly friends, they connect through their common rejection of Society’s View of a Woman’s Place.

“Maybe, with Mr. Frick gone, Miss Helen would be free to figure out where she stood in the world without a parent scrutinizing her at every turn, comparing her unfairly to a long-dead sibling. It might be exciting, thrilling, to watch Miss Helen come into her own.”

Lillian is watching Helen care for Mr. Frick, who is dying. She decides to help Helen through her grief, to support her as no one did for her when her mother died. Lillian is not the only one who believes Mr. Frick’s death will free Helen. Miss Winnie, the killer herself, believes the same thing.

“Veronica expected Miss Helen to get even angrier at their discovery, but instead, she withdrew into herself as Joshua talked, becoming smaller in stature, weaker.”

Helen is about to force Veronica to leave when Joshua distracts her with the clues from her old scavenger hunt. He and Veronica cannot understand Helen’s reaction, but the reader does, creating more dramatic irony. Helen is reacting to the humiliation of her broken engagement with Richard and Lillian’s betrayal even after all these years.

“A sliver of hope lay with Miss Helen, whose familiarity with the art world might make her more understanding of the role that models played in the creative process, [...] But deep in her heart she knew that only a few art collectors—Mrs. Whitney among them, as she was also an artist—entertained such liberal views.”

Childs’s investigator, DeWitt, has revealed Lillian’s identity as Angelica to the Frick family. Lillian hopes that, as a family immersed in the art world, they will be more accepting than the general public. But at the same time, part of her recognizes that their reaction will be that of society in general, and even here, she will be held to the same double standard.

“She’d repelled Mr. Danforth’s advances and, in turn, he’d set out to ruin her. For all of her mother’s training, the caprices of the upper classes were as foreign as some European country where Lillian didn’t speak the language or understand the customs.”

Lillian has just found out that Richard told DeWitt about her identity as Angelica. His actions are vengeful and cruel, even though he claimed to love her. She cannot understand his reaction and attributes it to class differences. Lillian and Richard’s fleeting rapport is another example of transience in the novel.

“You remind me of Miss Lilly. The woman had an uncanny ability to remember details like that, to know exactly where items were that I’d lost. Too bad she was a brazen hussy of a woman.”

Helen compares Veronica and Lillian’s sharp intelligence, showing admiration even as she still blames Lillian for stealing Richard. Later, this assessment of Veronica will lead Helen to offer her a job—and with that plot development, Veronica and Lillian will mirror one another more directly than ever before, as both will have worked for Helen in addition to being art models.

“When Lillian ventured into New York, she did her best to avoid passing any of her statues, as each stone-cold likeness stood as a reminder of how young and innocent she’d been, and how easily forgotten. While the sculptors’ names were etched into history, hers was lost forever.”

When Lillian was younger, she was proud of her modeling work, happy that the art was in public spaces where anyone could view it. When she is older, however, she avoids the sculptures because they are painful reminders that leave her feeling invisible. For this reason, it will be especially meaningful for Lillian’s name and likeness to be part of the Frick Collection, where she will receive the recognition she deserves as muse and collaborator.

“I’d come from true poverty, was put to work at the age of thirteen, and spent most of my time fetching tonics and administering salves for a woman who ate too much marzipan and then complained of indigestion, who found sunny days a personal affront.”

Miss Winnie explains why she pretended to be deaf all those years as Mrs. Frick’s private secretary. She found her wealthy employer’s complaints insulting, even as she felt sorry for her in the wake of Martha’s death. This same anger is partly what drove her to kill Mr. Frick.